Keeping what's mine
by Champion3
Summary: He savors the stale air, taste the bitter tape. He craves control, control only the masked men could give. He's bound by his ankles but he does not mind. It's his mind, his world. Dp-Angst. T. Please R&R!


**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!...im no man :)**

**This came from a dark corner of my mind...see what happens when i don't sleep? O wellz, I hope you enjoy….or at least don't want to burn it..(it's digital HA)! soo ermm….yea. Please review! I have a DP fanfic on the way btw! xD luv you!**

**~Champ3**

* * *

_ Step. Step. Step. Bang. Step._

The sound of people wandering the halls reach my ears, along with the occasional bang of a door.

I sit here against my wall, my wall for as long as I could remember, my wonderful pale wall. Duct Tape covers my eyes and mouth, yet I don't mind. It's better in the dark, and nothing I have to say matters. If I can speak. Can I?

A coppery taste lingers under my tongue and across my teeth, my pointed, lethal, teeth. My feet are bound to my corner by gray shackles, but again I don't mind, I have nowhere to go. My hands are free, free to do what they want when they want. They can go through my hair, play with the cracks on the floor, punch, or scratch.. I don't control them.

My skin feels cold and brittle. I can feel my calloused knuckles against the floor. Hair falls into my face tickling my cheeks and nose, I sometimes wonder what color, yet I have no right to wonder. I'm cut off from the world around me. I can wonder, hope, and dream, but I see no point. I'm happy the way things are, why wish for more? My limp body rests against my wall but I don't bother to sit up, nobody's here to see me, and I don't mind. I don't mind all these thing, they make up my world. My life.

My tongue licks the sticky material over my mouth, tasting the bitter tape. Trying to take it off was fruitless, it's wrapped around my head multiple time sure, I can easily get it undone. But why would I?.I used to call out in the dark room, listening to my echo, before the masked men came and bound me. I didn't mind. I had nothing worth a echo. I used to wonder if I looked like a mummy head. Used to.

I can hear men talking outside my room. My room, my wall, my world. They stay outside unless given reason to intrude. So, I give them no reason. The stale air smells of sweat and copper, a savored scent. I can count the times I'd tried to escape. _One...Two...Three..._But I had no reason to leave, no where to go. I hadn't realized this before. It wasn't like I had gotten far. I never left this room. My room. A personal Heaven, where nobody can take me away. Nobody. Tears sometimes struggle to escape my tape covered eyes, I'm not sure why. Everything was good. Far better than good. So, why would my tears rebel against me?

Although my vision is cut off colors intrude my eyes, visions of purple eyes or teal eyes. Teal, purple, blue, all mix together making my head pound. I can sometimes feel hands caressing my small form, but the harder I struggle the more they touch me. I don't want to be touched. The smell of lavender and bread assaults my nose, taking me away from my savored stale air.

The worst is the voices. The velvet sounds float above my head, and around my body. I can hear comforting words being said, but for what reason? I'm fine. I'm safe. Safe.

Tears cascade down my face, Going underneath the tape over my mouth. I taste the salty water, when had I started crying? No, no I'm not crying. My tears are just rebelling. They won't stay away. Out of my control.

_Out of my..control_. I break. I break the quiet my room held. I break the heaven in my mind. I break my strings.

My hands fly up to the tape on my lips, ripping it down. I dare to pull the tape off my eyes, feeling the skin rip. I keep my eyes closed and open my mouth wide. Letting loose a feral scream I can feel my lungs protest with so much usage. I don't care. I scream out of anger. Scream out of pain. Scream for control. Tears fall from my chin as I stop my scream and get to my feet. I turn to my wall. And scream. I scream at my wall for all it was worth as I scratch and pound on the concrete. I hear the men in the hall, yet I pay them no attention. I elbow the wall feeling something break, but I don't flinch.

People are at my door, I move as far as my chains will let me to the door, halfway across the small room. And open my eyes. I can see the concrete door a few meters away, and hear the men jiggling key. I chuckle at the frantic voices. My cracked lips form a grin as I wait for the door to open, knowing what was coming.

I only beg for control. To gain that control I need attention, whether it be painful. I know what the masked men would do when they get in the room. They'd sedate me, chain me, blind me, hurt me. And it felt good. To be in control of my own pain. I can bring it upon myself with little effort, and I crave it. Maybe I'm a masochist. I can hear the men click the lock open and start to open the door. I stand still in the middle of the room waiting to be punished for my behavior. They don't like my noise.

The men march into my room, one holding a syringe filled with clear liquid. My grin never wavers as they each march up and block the exits, like I could get out I'm chained to a freaking wall. My wall. The man moves at a fast pace and grabs my shoulder, quickly shoving the needle into my neck. Internally I pout, not liking the sedative. No fun. I can feel the effect take toll on my body immediately as the small amount of men leave my room. I can feel my wobbly legs collapse and I head for the floor, curling up into a ball. I hope I wake soon. I don't like the ever going darkness in my mind. Filled with voices and touches. My lip bleeds as I crack a tired smile. Before I wake, I hope to see those amethyst eyes, just once more before the rest. I admit I like the caressing fingers and smell. There just foreign. Unknown to me.

But there soon to be known. Because once I latch on, There no letting go. _It's Mine_.


End file.
